


A Kingdom Divided

by EthanTheRenegade



Series: (un)Civilized [2]
Category: Civilization (Video Games)
Genre: Alternate History, Gen, One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-10
Updated: 2020-09-10
Packaged: 2021-03-07 01:55:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,744
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26339104
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EthanTheRenegade/pseuds/EthanTheRenegade
Summary: Chandragupta announces his intent to conquer the neighbouring Khmer empire. However, his advisor Gandhi not only disapproves, but organizes a protest against his regime. India will never be the same again.
Series: (un)Civilized [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1911187
Comments: 3
Kudos: 5





	A Kingdom Divided

**Author's Note:**

> This is a work of fiction and does not accurately represent the character of any figures depicted.

**A Kingdom Divided**

* * *

**_Buddhism_ **

_Founded in the wondrous Khmer city of Angkor Wat by the great prophet Siddhartha Gautama, Buddhism teaches a path to enlightenment through the four noble truths and the eightfold path. The Wat is the religious center, with prayer rooms, libraries, study halls, and living quarters for the famed and feared Buddhist warrior monks. Buddhism has been readily adopted in Korea and Japan, and the perspectives of their cultures further enrich and expand Buddhist theology._

* * *

Chandragupta reclined on a sofa, the cool breeze a welcome relief to the humid heat of the late morning sun. The great sandstone mountain range Zhangye Danxia stood like a rainbow chained to the earth, greatly enhancing his view over Patna. From this balcony lounge, Chandragupta gazed over his empire, an ivory cup of Indian wine held aloft in his hand. If he as much as snapped his fingers, a servant would fetch him his robe, made with Indian silk, dyed with Indian dyes. Tonight he would feast on foods seasoned with Indian spices.

But there was much on the continent of Vaalbara that India did _not_ possess. Luxuries that Chandragupta lusted after. Honey, tea, tobacco, incense… oh, if only he could have such things for his empire. Such things could be found most readily in the Khmer empire in the east, beyond the mountains. Yet the world was already reeling from two wars: the Siberian-American war that saw the Cree conquered, and then the war that liberated them began a mere three weeks upon its conclusion.

Though his ambitions of expansion were well documented. When the Pheonecians and Indonesians each attempted to colonize the land just outside his borders, Chandragupta had, in his infinite kindness, annexed them into his land, granting them the glory and privileges of being a part of the Indian empire. He’d also famously warred with Alexander the Great, with the armies of India and Macedonia fighting across three continents.

What’s one more war in the grand scheme of things? The Khmer would be better served as part of Indian rule; it was for the best that he saw it through.

* * *

His advisors were assembled around the round table of his war room. The circular map of Vaalbara was stretched out before them as Chandragupta circled like a hungry shark to a wounded seal.

“My friends. India has done well for herself. Her people are happy. Her people are protected. This is a golden age for India, and for this, we should be proud. However, we cannot keep such affluence and opulence to ourselves! It would not be right, when others in the world suffer.”

A few of the advisors smiled, quietly congratulated each other- or themselves- for the prosperity of the nation. Others nodded to each other in agreement; why not help the less fortunate of the world? India was a rich nation, they could spare charity. All but one. One advisor frowned. He had a bad feeling about where his emperor was leading the conversation.

“Take our eastern neighbors for instance,” Chandragupta continued, “Yes, the Khmer possess some luxuries that we do not… but their armies are weak, barely strong enough to fight back the Aztec empire to the south. Their Budduist beliefs are… well-meaning, yes, but unenlightened. And the people themselves are unproductive, uncultured… would it not be a benefit to them if they could be a part of our empire? Would they not flourish as we are?”

Chandragupta stepped into his place in the circle, setting his hands on the table, “My friends. India shall free the Khmer from themselves.”

There were murmurs between the advisors, then one of them- Darshan, a military advisor- began to clap. Slowly, applause spread through to all of his council… all but one.

“Gandhi, do you not approve?” Chandragupta raised an eyebrow.

“No, my emperor, I do not.” The old man replied simply, clutching his walking stick, “You may disguise the words, but I see them for what they are. You aim to _conquer,_ not liberate.”

“You said nothing when I ‘conquered’ the colonies of the Pheonicians and the Indonesians.”

“Inaction that I have come to regret; I will not stand by silently and allow you to conquer an entire nation!” Gandhi argued, “Did you not see what happened when America and Canada conquered the Cree? Their allies banded together from across the globe to liberate them. Do you truly think that Japan and Korea will not cross the sea to defend the heart of Buddhism?”

“Your objections are noted,” Chandragupta raised his head, looking down on the older man, “And ignored. India shall go to Khmer, and should Japan and Korea attempt to interfere, they will be rebuffed. India shall stand united… and victorious.”

Saying nothing, Gandhi slowly shuffled out of the room. 

* * *

It was only a few days later. He was in the war room, conversing with his great generals when the messenger came.

Before that moment, talk was entirely of strategy. Yes, India had war elephants, but so did the Khmer. India had muskets, but so did the Khmer. India’s army was well trained and disciplined, but there was rough terrain between the lands of India and the Khmer. The time between the denunciation, the army mobilizing, reaching the rendezvous point, and the declaration of war had to be precise. The army had to be in _just the right place_ when war was officially declared. Too early and they would not be close enough to besiege the Khmer’s border cities, giving them time to mount a defense. Too close, and it would tip off the Khmer… giving them time to reallocate whatever defenses they had on hand before the official declaration.

 _But then the messenger came._

He told the emperor of crowds flooding the streets of Patna, chanting, waving painted signs and banners. The protestors were unified in one goal: opposing the war… a war that had not been made public knowledge! Only one man could be responsible.

And so Chandragupta stormed to the front balcony of his palace, looking out over the city. He could hear the crowds, even from here. Anger burned in his chest. If Gandhi had informed the common folk of India and incited a mass protest, then the Khmer- and world congress- would certainly learn of his intent. There was no way he could surprise the Khmer now.

But he could not let his rage get the better of him. If he reacted swiftly and harshly against these protests... world congress would undoubtedly condemn him. Perhaps it would be best to allow the people to exercise their rights, to get it out of their system. He may make a speech or two to calm them down, and then they’ll go back to their lives, and he’d go back to the war room to plan an entirely new avenue of attack for the war… and he would have that treasonous Gandhi imprisoned in the deepest, darkest dungeon cell for the rest of his miserable life.

Yes. Patience. _That_ was the best course of action.

“Captain,” Chandragupta called one of his officers, “Have the army supervise these protests, ensure that they do not get out of hand. Arm them with shields and clubs, not blades. If these demonstrations… _escalate,_ use of non-lethal force is authorized.”

There was a command hidden in his orders, one that his officer picked up on with a cruel smirk, “Yes, my emperor.”

* * *

The first day of protesting was manageable. The army’s presence managed to suppress some of the population, and the infiltrators managed to incite some protestors into getting themselves a trip to the dungeon. The fourth day was taxing. The people chanted louder, sang, waved their banners. Fewer protesters rose to the infiltrator’s bait, and some were able to identify and expose the undercover soldiers, ruining _that_ operation altogether. The whole while, these protests were slowly becoming less about the war and more about the Maurya Empire.

On the seventh day, the demonstrations filled the streets. No matter where he was in the palace, Chandragupta could hear their song. The army was struggling to contain them, to keep them away from the palace. The protesters were now actively calling for Chandragupta to step down from rule… and for Gandhi to take his place.

 _That_ was the last straw for Chandragupta. Face red, the emperor called only his most trusted advisors into the war room. The protests would end. Today. As they filed in, taking places around the round table, some looked nervous and fearful. Some looked confused. The military advisors, however, knew exactly what order was to come. Some were enthusiastic, ready to put down this affront to their great emperor. Others were subdued and somber, lamenting that this day had come to pass, but knowing their duty.

“These protests have turned from an exercise in free speech to calls for anarchy. These radicals seek to subvert and destroy the empire that I have long worked to build,” Chandragupta leaned over the table, scanning even these trusted men for weakness and deceit, “And now they call for Gandhi to replace me, to tear down the Maurya empire and its legacy. This. Is. Treason.

“As of this moment, Mohandas Gandhi is a traitor of the highest degree to India. He is to be apprehended and imprisoned, pending public execution. Darshan, Uday, Govnid, deploy the full strength of our army to disperse the discontents.”

Uday, whose somber discontent and discomfort had reached its breaking point spoke up, “My Emperor, do you expect us to fire muskets into crowds of civilians? Put Indian people to the sword? Is there no other way?”

Chandgraupta’s rage turned to the advisor. He pushed past the few in his way and seized Uday by the throat. Uday tried to fight back, but hesitated at first. When the panic began to set in- _my Emperor is going to_ kill _me!_ -he clawed and jabbed at Chandragupta desperately. 

The emperor lifted his advisor into the air and slammed him onto the table’s edge with a sickening crack. The advisor’s legs went limp as his arms still fought. The table broke under the weight, digging splinters of wood into flesh. In a last-ditch effort, Uday grabbed an edge of the table that barely clung to the rest of the woodwork and broke it off, stabbing Chandragupta in the side with the shiv of wood… but the emperor’s grip did not falter. No, it _tightened,_ fuelled by pain, determination born from hatred. Finally, Uday could fight no longer and fell limp.

Chandragupta stumbled back a few steps. The wooden stake had been left in his side, and he grasped it, tempted to pull it from his flesh now… but no. He would wait for the doctor. He looked at his advisors. This show of strength had secured their loyalty, regardless if it was born of fear or respect.

“Deploy the army.”

* * *

For the seventh day, Gandhi led by example. He was in the thick of the demonstrations, surrounded by the chants and songs of the people. When marching, he would lead the people like the general of a military parade. When tired, he would retreat to join one of the various sit-downs. Three times a day, he would address the crowds with the authority of a king.

Perhaps _that_ was why the people chose him in their hearts to lead them.

As the crowds veered closer and closer to the palace grounds, another sound could be faintly heard under the din of the demonstrators… marching. Steadily, this sound became louder, closer, until Gandhi could see the line of musketmen come from around the corner. Behind them, swordsmen filed in lines thick enough to choke the street. The protesters would not pass this blockade.

Uncertain, the crowds quieted down, looking to each other in confusion. Why had the people in front stopped? What was going on? Gandhi shuffled forwards, ahead of the group to address the soldiers.

“You are armed with muskets and blades… hardly weapons to wield against unarmed commoners.”

The leading officer, a man Gandhi recognized but could not name, stepped between the lines of musketmen, “By order of Emperor Chandragupta Mayura, these demonstrations are to immediately cease, and all of you people are to go back to your homes!”

“And you back the words of the emperor with guns and swords?” Gandhi frowned, “If he is so bloodthirsty that he will turn his fury upon the citizens of his own empire, perhaps the people _are_ correct that he should step down from leadership.”

There was a loud cheer at this. The officer frowned, and held a writ in the air, “Furthermore, Mohandas Gandhi, you are under arrest for high treason.”

“You can chain me, you can torture me, you can even destroy this body, but you will never imprison my mind!” Gandhi rebuked the officer, punctuating his statement by pounding his walking stick into the ground like a judge’s gavel, “Ideas and ideals are eternal.”

“This is your final warning!” The officer shouted, “Surrender!”

Suddenly, a rock sailed from behind Gandhi, landing two feet in front of the front line of musketmen. There was a pregnant pause as all of India realized what was about to happen. One last breath before all hell broke loose. Time seemed to slow to a crawl. Some of the crowd surged forward, grabbing stones and bricks. Some of the crowd tried to pull back, to escape with their lives. The musketmen got into position, rifles loaded and ready to fire. Two men grabbed Gandhi, pulling him back into the crowd and out of the line of fire.

And then everything shattered. The world was a blur, a menagerie of people, angry and afraid, a cacophony of screams, battle cries, gunfire, metal on flesh, stone on metal. As he was pulled along by the fleeing protestors, desperate to bring their heart and soul to somewhere the emperor could not extinguish him, Gandhi mourned.

“My attempts to avoid violence have _failed._ An eye for an eye only makes the world blind.”

* * *

The news spread like wildfire: Emperor Chandragupta had declared Mohandas Gandhi a traitor and his army had put peaceful protestors to the sword. Instantly there was division- not just in Patna, but all of India. Entire cities were thrown into upheaval as the people fought over who was justified. Two fifths of the army deserted and joined Gandhi’s rebellion.

India was now embroiled in civil war.

Chandragupta’s support was strongest in central and southern India, and any dissenters could easily be crushed. The capital city of Patna, Srinagar, Madurai, Hyderabad, and the port city of Calcutta were firmly in his grasp. Gandhi’s base of operations was eventually established in Delhi, and found further support in the cities of Mumbai, Bangalore, and the conquered colonies of Bau-Bau and Gadir.

Gandhi was fortunate that Chandragupta was occupied in silencing any who opposed him- too occupied with handling the pockets of resistance closest to home to devote spare resources to hunting his former advisor. This two week delay may have cost Indian lives, but it allowed Gandhi to gather his forces and establish Delhi as his capital. A new government was formed, one that would represent the _people_ of his India, not the whims of a single man.

The Sayata Republic.

Elections were promised, but would have to wait. Sayata India was at war with Mayura India, and Chandragupta certainly would not postpone his advance for the sake of his enemies establishing themselves politically. For now, Gandhi held _all_ the power, something he felt somewhat… _uncomfortable_ with. A temporary measure. He would _not_ see himself become his enemy.

Sixteen days after the first stone was thrown, Mayura soldiers coalesced at the borders of Mumbai. Further down the coast from Delhi, a true navy was starting to form in Calcutta’s harbor. Defending these two cities was essential; they were not only the largest, with the most population, but the closest to Mayura territory. If _either_ one fell, the Sayata Republic would end just as quickly as it began.

Gandhi set to work immediately. The bulk of the army would move to fortify the borders, with a token few units remaining behind to garrison the other cities. New additions for the army were to be trained in Mumbai and Bangalore, while Delhi and Bau-Bau built warships. Gadir, however, was given a different order. With their Phoenecian roots, the people of Gadir were brilliant shipbuilders. The bireme, an ancient Phoenecian galley, was considered amongst the height of early sailing vessels. While the bireme was considered obsolete now, legends of its speed compared to ships of its time inspired Gandhi.

World Congress _must_ know of Chandragupta’s dark deeds. Surely they would step in and stem the slaughter. Even if congress as a whole would not, surely he could appeal to individuals, and Gandhi had certainly made some friends in the leaders of foreign nations. And so, Gandhi commissioned the people of Gadir to build the fastest ship they could; one that would take him to Te Hokiangu-nui-a-kupe, the Māori capital on the nearby continent of Terra Australis. All of this, however, was entirely pointless if Chandragupta crushed the army at Mumbai or Delhi.

Chandragupta’s first attack came on the seventeenth morning before sunrise. Swordsmen and knights charged Gandhi’s defensive lines at Mumbai, while coursers raided Delhi’s countryside and attempted to flank the Sayata army. Pikemen and pike and shot held firm, backed by crossbows, and managed to hold back the Mayura’s first advance. Well-fortified, the anti-cavalry sustained injuries, but no casualties. Chandragupta lost a third of the charging swordsmen and two regiments of coursers were shot down by Delhi’s defending crossbowmen and the city garrison.

The second wave came two days later. The previous assault’s surviving swordsmen joined the coursers in harrying Delhi. Mumbai was beset upon by musketmen, the knights from two days prior, and catapults accompanied them as well. The pressure was suffocating; even with the workers in Gadir working harder than ever and paid handsomely, it was still a few more days until the diplomatic transport ship would be completed.

Gandhi attempted to use Chanragupta’s courser strategy against him, sending his own horsemen to flank the opposing armies. While it forced the knights to break ranks and fall back to protect the catapults- leading to heavy casualties for the musketmen- the Sayata coursers were all but wiped out. Delhi’s defense once again repelled the Mayura coursers, and an unexpected charge routed the swordsmen. Chandragupta would be furious at these losses, and throw everything he possibly could at them. Even his incomplete navy was preparing to make sail for Delhi.

They were running out of time.

Gandhi ordered that the most wounded defenders be sent back to Bangalore, Bau-Bau, and Gadir, while their garrisons be brought up to the front lines. Fresher fighters could make all the difference. Musketmen completed their training in Mumbai and Bangalore and were rushed to the front as quickly as possible. Bau-Bau’s caravel was completed and set sail for Delhi immediately, it would have to hold the Bay of Bengal alone until the frigate was complete.

Chandragupta’s army was immense, stretching from the shores of the Bay of Bengal to the base of the Vindhaya Range. There would be no swordsmen, only muskets. Pike and shot divisions marched with them, a counter to Gandhi’s middling cavalry. Chandragupta’s cavalry, by contrast, had been bolstered with war elephants. Lastly, catapults and siege towers wait in the back, defended by crossbowmen.

The situation was bleak, but all Gandhi had to do was hold out until the transport was complete. Just a few days… but these days would be an eternity to the Sayata Republic of India.

The Mayura armies marched all at once, a wall of warfare that pillaged and sacked everything between them and their targets. Anti-cavalry formed a wall of their own to attempt to halt Chandragupta’s advance, but the pikemen would do little to defend themselves against musket fire. At the last moment, Gandhi’s defensive lines fell back, replaced by musketmen of his own! When the enemy was pushed back and their cavalry sought to sweep in and finish the wounded soldiers, the Sayata anti-cavalry returned to their positions.

This strategy would stall Chandragupta at best. His army vastly outnumbered Gandhi’s defenders, who sustained more injuries and losses as time wore on. Worse still, Chandragupta had siege weapons and crossbowmen waiting for the chance to move in and fire upon the city garrisons. Every unit he lost meant a unit of crossbowmen could take their place and rain arrows from a distance upon the defensive lines.

Meanwhile, their sole caravel had the unenviable task of protecting Delhi from the Mayura navy alone. The ratio was two to one. Fortunately, the Mayura navy was… ill-equipped. Their warships had been hastily made. While heavily gunned, they were slower than the Sayata caravels. Delhi’s caravel sailed circles around the Mayura warships, always managing to stay out of their cannons’ range. As the battle at sea went on, it became clear that the rushed warships were also somewhat fragile… Chandragupta had prioritized powerful ships made quickly over a well-balanced ship done right.

Suddenly there was cannon fire from the distance… frigates! The Mayura warship’s powerful guns devastated their small fleet of caravels, sinking nearly half in just a few volleys. They were forced to pull back and concede the waters to Chandragupta. His warships may have been decimated, with all but three resting on the bottom of the sea, but those frigates… they would devastate Delhi. They needed an equalizer. Fortunately, they had just completed one: frigates of their own.

Mayura and Sayata, each with their own frigates, circled like a maelstrom and fired upon each other in a dance to the death.

Finally the word came: the transport was complete! Gandhi had no desire to leave his fledgling flock to the wolves of war, but he had little choice. He _had_ to go, to tell the world what was happening. Leaving the defense of Sayata India in the hands of his castillions and generals, Gandhi rode hard for Gadir. The striking image of their leader rushing by on a white horse would inspire great artists for years to come, but only if Sayata survived this first test.

As he neared the city, he saw something in the distance… banners? _No…_ Mayura banners! They had gone around the mountains to flank the undefended north! Gadir was filled with screams, the shouted orders of soldiers, and ringing bells as Gandhi rushed to the harbor. He _had_ to get on that ship! That ship _had_ to get to the Māori, or all would be lost! Soon the sounds of musket fire joined the clamor… they were already here!

Fortunately the ship had already been prepared, all they needed was Gandhi. He could see the harbor, he could see the water, he could see the ship… he was so close… but suddenly, the musket fire was close- closer than he could have ever feared. A bullet whizzed past Gandhi, he could almost feel its kiss against his cheek. 

There would be no time to dismount. Boldly, he urged the horse onwards. The crew seemed to realize what was happening and prepared the ship to leave. Gandhi would have to make this jump, or all would be lost. As the sails unfurled, the gangplank retracted, the ship slowly lumbering away from the dock, Gandhi urged the horse one more time. The white horse leapt… 

And landed hard on the deck of the transport, crashing into a heap. Gandhi was thrown from the horse, landing amongst sacks of rice prepared for the journey. As the crew helped him up, the old man looked back, back to the burning and besieged city of Gadir.

He had made it. World Congress would know of Chandragupta’s crimes.

* * *

“This emergency session of World Congress has been called to order.”

The council room of World Congress was a vast and opulent circular chamber. The floor and walls were made from marble, with a long, intricate rug with golden thread extending from one entrance to the other. Two great semicircular tables held seating for all the leaders of the world, interrupted by the walkway made by the golden carpet. Behind each seat, the banner of the nation was hung to mark their place. The absolute center of the room was also marked by gold, the point of oration for whosoever appealed to the room at large.

Gandhi stood in this circle. All eyes were upon him, including the eyes of Pericles, the Greek orator who had called the attendees to attention. The old man leaned back in his chair, setting his gavel down before running a hand through his beard.

“Identify yourself, that history may know your name.”

“Mohandas Gandhi.”

“From what nation do you hail?”

“India.”

“What has brought you to us?”

Gandhi took a deep breath and looked around the room. He carefully studied each and every face… including Chandragupta’s. The tyrant was seated in his usual place, between the emperor of China and the president of Gran Colombia, and hatred burned in his eyes as they met each other’s gaze.

“My friends, India is at war with herself.”

“Why does this concern us?” A man scoffed. Behind him, a red banner with the yellow symbol of a bull, “Should this not be a matter between Indians?”

“Let the man speak, Phillip,” A woman snapped from two seats over. Gandhi recognized the symbol of her nation, Korea.

“Some weeks ago, I was an advisor for Emperor Chandragupta,” Gandhi resumed, “He announced his intent to invade and conquer the neighbouring Khmer empire… which I vehemently opposed.”

“Lies!” Chandragupta slammed his fist on the table.

“Do you happen to have physical evidence?” Pericles asked, giving the Indian emperor a silencing glare. Chandragupta slunk back into his seat.

Gandhi reached into his satchel, retrieving some rolled maps. He unfurled them, turning to display them for the room to see. 

“This is the only map I was able to retrieve. As you can see, it depicts the northern third of the continent of Vaalbara. The arrows indicate troop movements, through breaks in the mountain ranges. The crosses represent predicted locations of battle, based on historical evidence and recent scouting. It bears the seal of one of India’s military advisors, a man fiercely loyal to the Emperor.”

“As our intelligence suspected,” Seondeok hummed, then raised her voice to be heard by the room, “So your emperor intended to start a war, and you objected. Was this the catalyst for the civil war?”

“Yes and no,” Gandhi answered, “I organized a protest. Surely if the people knew that we were to war with our neighbors, some would disagree with the idea. I was correct.”

“So you rioted.”

“Not so,” Gandhi fixed the speaker, a robust man with golden spectacles and a mustache, with a glare, “The protests were _peaceful._ We marched through the streets with banners, we sat down in public spaces… there was no violence from the demonstrators themselves- except a few cases where instigators and infiltrators from the Indian military interfered. As the demonstrations continued, the people of India began to decry the rule of their emperor. On the seventh day, they began to demand that the emperor abdicate the throne, and some protesters believed that I would be suited to take his place.”

“If his reaction to the mere allegation in this meeting is any indication, I imagine Emperor Chandragupta took the whispers poorly,” A posh woman wearing a silver crown said with a roll of her eyes.

“He sent the army to disperse the protesters and arrest me for high treason.”

“Considering you revealed government secrets to the population and incited a revolution, charging you with high treason was well within the emperor’s right.” A man with a golden circlet, seated before a purple and red banner depicting an eagle with the sun overhead had scoffed at the notion.

“Was he within his right to slaughter unarmed citizens?” Gandhi countered harshly.

“And _this_ was the start of the civil war?” Seondeok prodded gently.

“It was. Over the course of two weeks, the country was in chaos as it wrestled with who it supported and as the emperor silenced dissenters. Central and southern India wished to remain under Chandragupta’s rule,” Gandhi retrieved a map of India, gesturing to the various points he referred to, “The northern settlements: Delhi, Mumbai, and Bangalore, as well as the conquered Indonesian colony of Bau-Bau and the Pheonecian colony of Gadir, chose instead to reject the Mayura empire and asked me to rule their new union. 

“We are called the Sayata Republic of India. We seek to establish ourselves as a nation separate from the Mayura dynasty of India as led by Emperor Chandragupta. And as a sovereign nation, we are besieged. Our cities burn. I barely escaped Gadir with my life, in fact. And if you do not recognize us as a nation, we are the citizens of India, slaughtered by our own emperor. And we _beg_ you, the nations of the world, for aid.”

With that, Gandhi bowed his head and stepped out of the circle. Pericles slammed his gavel twice.

“Emperor Chandragupta of India, have you anything to say in your defense of the account and accusations?”

Chandragupta rose from his seat. He began to speak as he once again circled around the tables, a loose spiral towards the center. Once again he was a shark in the water, but this time _he_ was the one who bled… and there were larger fish surrounding him.

“My friends, long have you known me. Long have you known of my conquests, my desires. I love India. She is as a wife to me; I wish to see her clothed in the finest silk, to drink the sweetest of wines, to taste milk and honey. Truly, I want her to have everything. Yes, I intended to wage war upon Khmer, there is no point in denying such a thing. But this man, my former advisor, speaks with two mouths- neither of them pleasant!

"He attempted to undermine my rule and incite anarchy. His attempted coup has _failed_ and now he comes here, to the heights of the heavens and denounces me before my contemporaries! My fellow rulers, you who have bore the weight of your crowns and the burdens of your people… Mohandas Gandhi attempted to overthrow me and seize power, and when he failed, he crawled here to you. To slither like the snake he is and whisper deceit in your ears. I implore you to reject his falsehoods! Return him to my custody… he shall be punished as he is deserved, and India shall once again be made whole.”

His speech concluded, Chandragupta returned to his seat. Pericles rose, gavel in hand.

“Mohandas Gandhi. Emperor Chandragupta. Please wait outside while we deliberate.”

* * *

The debate raged on for hours. The echoed voices rang through the halls, though neither Gandhi nor Chandragupta could interpret what was being said. Finally, after nearly five hours, the men were called back into the council chambers. As they entered, stood on either entrance, the leaders rose from their seats.

“We the people have decided that as of this moment, the Sayata Republic of India shall be recognized as its own sovereign nation- separate from the Mayura Empire of India.” Pericles announced, “Any conquered territory belonging to the Sayata Republic by the Mayura Empire must be returned, effective _immediately_. Furthermore, the Mayura Republic must pay reparations for any damage or loss of life caused by their advance.”

As Chandragupta’s face hardened into a deep frown, Gandhi felt a weight lift off his shoulders, “My thanks to you all.”

“Mohandas Gandhi, when you next return, you will have a seat of your own on this council. This concludes the emergency session.”

With the final strike of a gavel, it was official. Most leaders began to file out, some stopping to offer congratulations and brief words of wisdom to Gandhi as they exited.

“Eyy, Gandhi! Congratulations!” Kupe slung an arm around the older man’s shoulder and walked him out of the chambers, “I knew you had it in you, your mana is strong.”

“Thank you, Kupe,” Gandhi smiled, “Do you plan on staying long?”

“Yeah, nah,” Kupe shook his head, “I’ve got to chart a few courses. I think I’ve found some choice locations for more Māori settlements… I’ll have one on every continent at this rate!”

“There is still some land north of Sayata India that you are certainly welcome to.”

“Hm. May hav’ta take you up on that. Vaalbara’s a nice place, eh. Anyway, I won’t keep you. Old man like yourself, probably needs rest! Ha!” Kupe gave Gandhi a heavy pat on the back and headed off.

“Such an excitable young man.” He said to himself.

* * *

Gandhi’s return was heralded with a parade. Personally, he felt it was not the right time- the city of Gadir was still smouldering from the Mayura siege… but who was he to deny the people their right to celebrate? They were free. As his carriage passed through the country, he could see workers already working to replant farms and repair damage done by Chandragupta’s pillaging.

Upon his return to Delhi, Gandhi called an assembly. He declared that elections were to be held to determine the representative of each city. The elected would help form an advisory council that would represent their home city’s interests. Furthermore, a constitution had to be drafted- perhaps he would consult with his new friends in congress for assistance in that matter? 

One of Chandragupta’s mansions was converted into Gandhi’s palace… and he had to admit, the building was very similar to the palace in Patna. It was late when Gandhi finally retired, servants directing him to his quarters. The palace was quiet, save for the clicking of Gandhi’s walking stick against the floor as she shuffled towards his room.

But when he opened the door, there was a man waiting for him inside. He was an older man of tanned skin. Tattoos of strange writing adorned his body and seemed to shine of their own accord. He had a thick moustache, whitening gray hair- where hair remained on his head, and thick golden-framed glasses perched on his nose.

“Mohandas Gandhi. My congratulations on the birth of your nation… I represent the Hermetic Order. We have much to discuss.”


End file.
